Invisible Angel Wings
by hammy ham ham
Summary: Danny makes the biggest decision of his life, will the day end as he hopes? Will he finally hear the words he longs to hear? Will he fall to misery or fly on an angel's wings?A DxS fluff oneshot.


This is really drawn out, but I want this to be good. A lot of stories involving this part of Danny and Sam's life are quick and to the point, but I don't think that is quite right. No, not right at all.

XXX

---Danny's POV---

It's a decently cool April day. I have everything, and I mean, everything planned to perfection. I had asked Sam to come with me for a walk at dusk a week previous, and everything was set up for the question. Yep, Danny Fenton was finally going to pop the question to his best friend since preschool and girlfriend of five years, Sam Manson, he hoped to soon be Sam Fenton.

I sit in my room, waiting for four o'clock to roll around so I could pick her up. While I'm waiting, I think of all the madness we've been through, from when we hooked up after that thing with the FBI to now. We had always flirted around each other, but it took years for us to finally give up the ghost, no pun intended, and reveal our feelings.

I inwardly chuckle when thinking about how clueless I was back then. I had convinced myself it was only friendship, when really, it was something so much more. Sam was, is, and hopefully always will be more than my best friend and girl friend. She has always been a shoulder to cry on and someone there to bring me back from the brink when I was depressed. She had a quip for everything and knew just the right way to make me smile, be happy that I am here. That's the reason I love her so, she is always there to make life great and a thing of beauty.

I could go on and on about all the ways she was my vision of perfection. She was my dark angel, and I was her loving Phantom. It just seemed so right, like a pair of puzzle pieces fitting together. Through all of it, we had always been there to aid each other. A crutch when the other was hurt, a tissue when the other was feeling blue, a ray of light in each other's lives warmer than any star.

A shrill alarm awakes me from my thoughts, signaling that the time had come. I brush off my red trimmed shirt and blue jeans, the same outfit I'd worn for years. I don't know why, but it just seems like the only thing I really feel myself in, aside from my Phantom jumpsuit, of course. My hair has grown a little longer over the years, myself a little more muscled from ghost fighting, but that aside I haven't changed much. I guess I'm afraid of change because so few things in my life are constant. I always have the pillar that was the love of my friends and family, but it feels good to have a handle on other things as well.

Almost forgetting the most important accessory of the night, I gingerly pick up the velvet box on my dresser, peering at the ring within. A simple silver band with a rough amythest the color of her eyes inlaid. A small sliver of metal that held so many hopes, dreams and wishes. It makes me wonder how something so easily over looked can hold so many facets and deep desires. Something so simple, and yet so wonderful, like the first faint star in the night sky.

Taking a deep breath, I go through the door to my home and begin the journey to hers, looking at everything along the way. A song bird letting its melodic call wash over the world, letting its voice echo through out the near empty streets. There are hardly any cars or people walking, and none of them are taking notice of me. I can enjoy all of nature's gifts without a care in the world, except stopping at the crosswalk, of course.

I look at a bush, seeing a bee busily flitting from flower to flower in a search for nectar to feed its brethren. It must be a tireless life, a honey bee's. Constantly working to find what your family requires to survive and protecting them from threats. I laugh, thinking about how I can connect with the small yellow and black striped insect that vanishes in the under brush.

While I'm passing a garden, a pair of white butterflies dance around my legs, as if teasing each other along in a ritual as old as time itself. They dart an a seemingly random manner, when I know there is a a pattern to their movements that is a mystery to everyone except themselves.

I laugh lightly as they spiral away, toward the mid afternoon sun and out of sight. Such are the simple pleasures in life. I am so enveloped in their antics that I neglect to notice Sam's house making itself known on the horizon until I am already at her door, the well pruned roses bordering the haven she calls home.

I turn toward the huge mansion in front of me, intimidating, and yet, feeling like a beacon for my beloved. I'd walked up these stairs a million times, but never with quite this much purpose in mind. All of the times I thought nothing of the trip that now felt like an eternity, each step like a weight being raised and dropped.

I slowly make my way up the stairs, counting them as I always did. Four, five, six steps. As childish as it may be, I always counted them to make sure a new one hadn't suddenly appeared or an old one gone from existence. It was fruitless and naive, but a tradition of entering her home all the same.

I look toward the door, the one wall standing between me and the soul I was convinced was meant to intertwine with mine until my dieing day. I can only hope she agrees with such a statement, and loves me as deeply as I do her. I've been through thousands of doors, but her always made me a bit on edge. It is a dark, ominous marble slab, containing a thin sheet of glass in the center, acting as a window to the outside world.

I can't quite bring myself to knock and alert her to my presence. I can't be getting cold feet now, this was much too important to skip out on. I am happy, and yet at the same time, frightened of beginning the long path toward asking the question I have longed to ask her ever since mutual emotions of love were expressed, if not longer.

_'Come on, Fenton. You fight ghosts daily, and you can't bring yourself to knock on a door? You've done this more times than you can count, one more time can't be that hard.' _I mentally tell myself in an effort to convince my hand to rap upon her chamber door.

Slowly, ever so slowly, I gently tap my hand against the polished stone. I do it again, this time with a bit more speed and force. The resulting tone echoes through out the home, followed by excited foot steps I know belong to my dear, beautiful Sam. They stop, her silhouette framed by the different faces of the cut glass before me.

The door handle begins to turn, and I gulp. Time seems to slow as the door opens, revealing the most wonderful creature I'd ever known behind. She is wearing what she normally wears, a black plaid skirt with an equally dark sleeveless shirt. Her hair is down to her shoulders, glimmering in the soft light of the chandelier in the hallway. Purple eye liner and lipstick adorn her features, a perfect smile upon her tender, angelic face.

She waves her hand in front of my eyes, and I realize I must have been staring. I shake my head, coming back into focus. I can not help but lose myself in her splendor. If I want to make it to tonight, I'll have to control myself. I place a small kiss upon her pale cheek, looking into her lavender eyes.

She looks at me giddily, her smile broadening. I reluctantly end the contact, moving aside to allow her room. She walks out daintily, looking at me with those eyes I could drown in. She grabs my hand, myself cherishing in her warm touch. We walk down the stairs with out conscious effort, caught in each other's gaze.

She breaks the stare, and brings me down to the pathway to the street. My eyes change to look at the path in front of me, making sure that I don't stumble on anything in the road. Goodness knows I'm a not the most graceful swan in the lake, but I don't want anything to happen. Not tonight.

I barely take notice of our turns, the path having been driven into my mind. She, Tucker and I always came to the park to think things over and get some real down to Earth answers. It was a mutual haven for us, a place where we can relax and just let the worries of the world be lost with the light breeze that is seemingly always present.

We reach the grass, small blades springing up from under my feet. The recent rains had made everything seem to glow with life. I always thought the world was most beautiful in the days following a gentle rain storm, because everything looks lively and renewed.

I lie down on the grass, Sam joining me on the natural carpet scratching at my finger tips. I make no effort to stop it though, everything is much too serene to worry over such trivial things. I look toward the sky, seeing small rays of yellow peaking out from the occasional cloud in the sea of icy blue on all sides. There are still several hours before sun set, and I'd be happy to just absorb the atmosphere for those last few hours before I attempt what I had been dreading also anticipating.

Sam turns gently on the grass to face me, and I reciprocate. She looks so peaceful just looking back at me, silently telling me that, no matter what happens, the world will stand strong and all will be good and just.

Her eyes are half lidded, not from tiredness, but from relaxation, a moment of rest among the uneasy seas of the world, splashing at fate's unpredictable hands. She places her hand gingerly on my side, a reassurance that all is right. I raise my hand and place it atop hers, covering it and protecting it from whatever may come.

She gazes at me lovingly, and I do the same, both trapped in the other's adoring gaze. This is how it should be, I'd pay any price to feel like this for the rest of my life. We sit there for an unknown amount of time. Seconds, minutes, hours all become meaningless terms as we bask in each other's glow.

I chance a look at the sky, and see the rich oranges and reds signaling sunset. Now is my chance. Am I ready for this? Will she answer what I wish; nay, pray she does? I can only hope. I hold her hand, silently removing it. I climb to my knees, and she does the same, looking on in curiosity.

I fumble with the small box in my pocket, my hands trembling in anticipation. I manage to grip it, hiding it in my closed hand. I look at her with all the love I can set in my eyes, and begin to speak. I take a deep breath, before saying tenderly, "Sam, we've been together for five years now. You have been my everything. My shelter in the storm, my smile in the gloom, my light in the night. You are all that and so, so much more. There is one thing I hope I can add to that endless list tonight."

I open the box in my hand, revealing it to her gaze. She gasps, realization dawning. I take another breath, before breathing with every shred of my soul, "Sam, will you marry me?"

She looks on in shock, as if frozen. '_Come on, come on, say something. Please Sam, just say something to me. I need you right now.'_ I plead inwardly.

Suddenly, she does what I had dreamed of every night since I planned this. She grabs me in a hug, her head fitting in the space between my shoulder and my neck. She removes herself from my still form, before gingerly taking the box from my hand and placing the ring upon her fourth finger. No words are needed, she had accepted.

I grip her in another embrace. My prayers have been answered, my hopes come to pass. I feel the cool sensation of her tears falling down my back, and realize that I'm crying too, the salty liquid spilling from my closed lids. My heart is leaping for joy in my chest, my very soul caught in the feeling of euphoria whipping through my body like a wild fire. I feel lighter then air, even lighter then I do as a ghost. I have the sensation like I'm flying, sitting on the cloud of all the wonderful things she made me feel at that moment.

I look at Sam's back as if to look for wings, and finding none. In that moment, I made a decision. A decision that as long as we were both living, I would embrace this feeling of love that made me so overcome. I realized with a grin why I felt like I was flying, for we are both flying on Invisible Angel Wings.


End file.
